The basement bathroom is ready to paint. I’ve talked before about my love of cream-colored paint, and so my original plan was to paint the bathroom Sea Salt like the dining room. Then I remembered that our basement is in fact painted with colors: I used two shades of DARK cream, otherwise known as yellowish, and I think a white bathroom would be not so pretty next to that.

Oh, who am I kidding, it’s that painting with cream-colored paint is unbelievably dull, as bad as painting two coats of primer, and I’m sick of it and I don’t want to do it again. I want to use a color not because I particularly want colored walls, but because it’s boring to paint with white. If I were hiring a painter I’d have the painter use cream, but I’m NOT so I’m NOT. Okay, and FINE, I think it would be fun to choose a color for a change.

So! Let’s choose a color. One of the shades I used in the basement is the exact color of eggnog. Seriously, I’d poured some into a little plastic container for doing the edges, and I kept ALMOST drinking it. The other shade is the same basic idea as the eggnog shade, but one step darker down on the strip—more like Classic Pooh (as opposed to rainbow-yellow Disney Pooh).

I am NO GOOD at choosing colors, but I AM happy with those shades of dark cream. So one possibility would be to use the same one(s) in the bathroom. Problem: would yellow be kind to complexions in the mirror? I would like to be kind. Plus: kind of boring to do the same color again.

What appeals to me most is a light green, yellowish, new-leaf-type. But greens are so hard to choose! One false move and it’s Hospital or Seafoam or Mint or Nauseated. Plus, with the complexions? No good?

I’m also considering a pale, glowing lilac color. I asked Paul if that would be too girly and he said no, that would be fine. But this is probably the bathroom our ADOLESCENT BOYS will be using later on. Not that boys can’t take showers in a purple bathroom. In fact, they should feel fortunate I don’t make them use the garden hose in the driveway.

I don’t really want to dither this to death, though. When I chose those yellows, I took every single remotely-cream/yellow paint chip in the store, and I leafed through them for WEEKS. I dealt them out and compared. I eliminated some, then added them back in. I paused Gilmore Girls so I could see which yellows looked most like the yellows in Luke’s apartment and in Lorelai’s house. I poster-puttied finalists to the walls so I could do quick evaluations every time I walked by, and so I could see them at all times of day. I fretted that I should really be getting sample cans and painting little pieces of the wall.

This time I was thinking I might just…walk into the store, pick a color that looks good, and go out with a can of paint. The bathroom kind of needs to be painted this weekend. I mean, it wouldn’t be an emergency if I postponed, but I think I’ve pushed the patience of the flooring people far enough already.

You know what is surprisingly similar to going through the Dunkin’ Donuts drive-through and getting a flavored coffee and two doughnuts? Having coffee with flavored creamer and two slices of bread with Nutella. It SOUNDS like a sad sorry substitute, but it doesn’t FEEL that way, and I can’t believe how similar Nutella-bread is to doughnuts (Elizabeth, sniffing my breakfast: “I know that smell! It’s DOUGHNUTS!!”).

The initial investment is larger (I paid $6 for a bag of Dunkin’ Donuts coffee grounds, $3 for a jar of Nutella, and $3.50 for a thing of flavored coffee creamer, all at Target), but the ingredients last for many servings and it’s easier to go back for second helpings without the drive-through girl saying “Back again so soon?” in a tone that’s hard to put a finger on but isn’t quite nice. Plus: no children in the back seats begging for doughnuts, no trying to figure out how to order the amount of cream and sugar I like (“Last time I said regular? and that was a little too much. So could I have, like, 75% of regular?”), and no using up a paper bag, a paper doughnut-grabber, several paper napkins, and a paper cup (I am practically NURSING BABY SEALS BACK TO HEALTH AND HAPPINESS by staying home).

I think I’ll start doing some of the cleaning updates on Twitter. I get so excited to tell you all the latest, but when I went down to the pantry for a new thing of coffee creamer this morning, and I threw away the fat-free kind I bought 2-3 years ago and rarely use and the huge tub of unflavored kind Paul got me by mistake that I kept thinking I might mix with Nesquik or something but never did, I wasn’t sure my excitement over those two little pitch-outs was worth, like, a POST. Though I see that didn’t stop me from posting two paragraphs about my breakfast.

A review of my mother-in-law’s eating requirements:

1. No salt.
2. Low fat.
3. Recent self-diagnosed tomato allergy

The worst of it is, she is making it hard to settle into a nice big venty complain-fest about it, because she presented #3 (the only one that’s new since her last visit) in a pleasant and considerate email—really, it couldn’t have been better. She was apologetic and hand-wringy in a way that made me want to say, “Oh, dear, NO, it is NO TROUBLE! Heavens!”

In fact, I went to the library and got a book on low/no-salt cooking, so moved was I by this unfortunate plight. As I was reading the recipes, I remembered several things learned from previous visits:

4. She “doesn’t care for” black pepper.
5. She “doesn’t care for” anything spicy.

Oh, hey, do you know what has no salt, low fat, no tomatoes, no pepper, and no spiciness? Baked chicken, baked potato, steamed broccoli. That’s what we’re going to have EVERY SINGLE NIGHT. No, really: we’ll change the broccoli for peas, carrots, other varieties available in our grocer’s freezer section, but there is NOTHING ELSE we will have.

You think I’m kidding? TRY ME. I really am glad there is something I like and can make (and ADD SALT AND PEPPER AND SPICES to on my own plate) that she can eat.

DRAMATIC CHANGE OF SUBJECT

I need new glasses. I got these glasses when William was a baby. (William is in third grade.) We don’t have any vision-related insurance, so here is my question: Is Walmart the same as going to some private place? And, is it even any cheaper? I saw a sign at Walmart that said eye exams start at $75. “Start at” is a tricky way to put that. How much do you pay for an eye exam—not for contact lenses, but just for glasses—and where do you get it done? And what about lenses/frames? How much and where, and WHY do they vary SO MUCH in price?

I came up with what I thought was a fun and inspiring cleaning goal: fill one trash bag (NOT from trash cans) before Trash Day. It did not work. Not because it was a bad idea, but because I just Didn’t Do It. Didn’t even take a trash bag out of the cupboard.

I DID, however, get rid of three Large Items from our playroom: two big toys (a riding toy and a sit-‘n’-spin) and one child-sized chair. We Freecycled them. The playroom floor looks so much bigger and clearer now.

I also got one step closer in the PLANNING process of hanging a picture that’s been leaning against the wall since I bought it a month ago. I didn’t hang it, but I thought of where I might like to hang it. Uh, woot!

I finished off an almost-empty bottle of orange vodka. That was some HARD WORK, but now there’s one fewer bottle cluttering up the shelves! …Well, except that I used the bottle to make a new batch of vanilla extract, so now it’s cluttering up the counter instead. I wonder if I can Freecycle all the cordials I bought when I thought I’d like them? (I don’t like them.) I suppose not.

Fastest de-cluttering turnaround ever: I bought three bottles of lotion on 75% off, tried it once, didn’t like the smell, gave the opened bottle to my mom and put the other two in the food pantry donation bin. It was hard to do it (it smelled FINE in the store! it was 75% off! it was Dove and I love Dove!), but I thought, “I’m not going to use it. So do I put in the donation bin NOW, or do I store the bottles for a couple of years and THEN donate them?” I could also have returned them, but they were something like $1.24 each, and also I hate returning things that the clerk might think I’ve opened and used, and also the food pantry recently put out a request for more of this sort of thing—I can’t think of the word for it, but non-food stuff like paper towels and lotion. “Sundries”?

I’m going to get rid of the rest of the dolls. I’d done a first sweep and didn’t find myself any more attached to the remaining dolls, and I think it’s that I just don’t want to collect/have dolls anymore. I’m going to keep some of the outfits for Elizabeth’s doll, but not many because she doesn’t really play with her doll either.

Today’s tidying tasks:

1. Went through massive stockpile of regular toothbrushes (acquired via dentists, school programs, clearances) and got rid of all but a small handful. Everyone in the family except me uses electric toothbrushes. The ones I got rid of are all in packages, so they can be donated to the local food pantry (which also gives out household basics like soap and paper towels).

2. Went through the closet and bureau in our room. Got rid of two bags of clothes we never wear. Bringing to clothing donation dumpsters. Also threw out about ten pairs of the kind of big-knit socks people get for Christmas. Threw out a pair of worn-out sandals I thought I’d already thrown out.

3. Found TWO Hello Kitty back-of-seat car organizers I bought on clearance lonnnnnng ago and suddenly remembered I had. Put them in the car. Used the bag they’d been stored in to gather up a bunch of trash from the car, and found Elizabeth’s headband cat ears that have been lost since last Halloween.

4. Threw out four boxes of hair color so old it’s bound to be no good anymore, even if I were planning to dye my hair that color. Remembered to salvage the excellent little conditioners that come with boxed color.

5. Established corner of dining room to start putting piles of stuff to be donated. It’s right where I walk past on my way out the door, so I’m hoping that will cue me to take things when I’ll be driving past the drop-offs for them.

This list looks more impressive to me than the actions were. None of them were THOROUGH cleans/tidies; all of them were quick first-scan types of tidies, where I got rid of the obvious stuff and didn’t push it to the hard decisions. I’m still doing more “If in doubt, keep it,” reserving “If it doubt, toss it out” for later or possibly never.

The way my fingernails look an average of 51 weeks per year:

The results of today’s housecleaning project:

My mom said the other day that she thinks this is probably the most stressful, difficult time in my WHOLE PARENTING EXPERIENCE. I wanted to correct her—to say, “No, the time with newborn twins must have been harder” or “No, the time with 2-year-old twins and a newborn must have been harder,” but instead I said, “The other day I was watching a thunderstorm and had my usual paranoid fear that the lightning would somehow strike me THROUGH THE WINDOW, but instead of feeling my heart pound as I imagined my funeral and my sad children gazing at the very few photos of me I took in the mirror since no one ever takes pictures except me, my first thought was ‘Oh, that would be such a RELIEF.'” Then I laughed merrily.

Dudes. There are days I HIDE IN THE BATHROOM. And I don’t mean I lock the door while I pee, I mean I LIE DOWN ON THE NICE COOL FLOOR and THINK ABOUT THE LOVELY, LOVELY LOCK.

Isn’t it terribly, terribly frustrating and discouraging to hear how much we’ll long for these days later on? And I can SEE it: I can see their sweet faces and hear their sweet funny voices and totally know how much I’ll miss them later on. But short of BOTTLING IT, I am not able to appreciate it all now. It’s like trying to appreciate summer tomatoes: it is all well and good to say you’ll miss them come January, but that doesn’t mean you can eat ten tomatoes a day in August.

I finished The Little Stranger by Sarah Waters. It falls into this category: “Books I loved all the way through, skipping other activities to read them—and then got to the end and was disappointed because there was not the kind of careful explanation I wanted.”

I don’t like books to leave me wondering and speculating. I am not someone who thinks to herself with a shrug, “Isn’t it wonderful to leave some things UNKNOWN in this unsurprising world!” or “Well, there are things that just defy explanation.” That might be fine for real life when there’s no other choice, but not for fiction: NOTHING defies explanation in FICTION. The creator of the book’s world is the author; all things are known to the author—and so I want those things revealed to me kthanx.

I realize not everyone wants this. Some of us like little Belgian detectives tying up all the loose ends, and some of us would rather stare thoughtfully into space thinking over the various possibilities. And at least The Little Stranger isn’t the kind of book that makes it clear the author got caught up in leaving tantalizing details but then couldn’t think of an ending that made sense with them (Plain Truth by Jodi Picoult, I am looking in your direction); it’s one of those old-fashioned stories where the narrator is telling a story that happened to him, and he never did find out the reason it happened, and so we don’t either. It’s a subtle difference, and one that’s meaningful to me—BUT I STILL WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED. Supernatural or not? And if supernatural, what KIND of supernatural? And if not supernatural, what KIND of not-supernatural, and HOW? TELL ME, SARAH WATERS. I DEMAND TO KNOW. If I don’t find out, a part of my dream-self will detach and leave scary scribbles under the paint of your house. Well, or I’ll be PRETTY FRUSTRATED. One or the other.

Two positive side-effects of Teh Cleaning, even when I am not officially cleaning:

1. I’m gradually tossing out some stuff I don’t use.
2. I’m gradually USING UP some stuff I DO use.

I have inclinations toward hoarding, and I usually have half a dozen bottles of stuff with half an inch of stuff left in each: I don’t want it to be GONE. I also usually have half a dozen bottles of stuff I bought and didn’t particularly like but don’t really want to throw out, either: what if there were a sudden emergency and I was so grateful to have the meh shampoo?

Not now, though. Shampoo and conditioner I used to love and so repurchased when I saw it recently, but it turns out now I hate it: in the trash. Last four uses of a shampoo I DO love but have been saving for months because OMG it’s Almost Gone: used it up. Last two evening primrose oil capsules: put in pill reminder to take during expected PMS. Last use of Special Expensive Conditioner: used up. Old bottle of melatonin sitting there because only the ones I’d cut in half were left so I’d started a new bottle: added to new bottle. This is probably the way some of you live ALL THE TIME.

In fact, this led me to tidy up my vitamin shelf. Bottle with a dozen prenatal vitamins left in it: flung recklessly into trash. Two bottles of folic acid (my daily multivitamin already has folic acid in it): flung recklessly into trash. Bottle of B-6 recommended for pregnancy nausea: flung recklessly into trash. I figured that if “just in case” were to ever present itself, I would be more than happy to run to Target to repurchase those items.

Attention everyone: cleaning progress has been made!

When I was reading the comments on the original post, my plan was to choose the idea that most appealed to me. The one that grabbed my attention was Sarah’s of Semi-Desperate Housewife: she suggested starting with the dustwebs in the corners. I have a mop-like item I bought in a fit of Cleanliness Resolve that I knew I could for this: it has a washcloth-like thingie that goes over it and can be turned inside-out halfway through to get a fresh surface.

Approximate time taken: 40 minutes

Resentment levels: Low—I didn’t feel like I was cleaning up SOMEONE ELSE’S dustwebs, though I did have a brief “You know, I am the ONLY ONE in this house who would EVER do this chore” feeling.

Exertion levels: Moderate. I’m not used to having my arms up like that or my neck tilted like that, and the mop-thing was awkward to use. There was one corner I couldn’t reach (we have a split foyer) and I threw a damp washcloth at it again and again until I got it. My aim, it is poor; but my children, they were greatly entertained.

Satisfaction levels: Medium-high. Those dustwebs caught my eye FREQUENTLY. Now my eye keeps going to the clean corners. Also, I feel as if The Cleaning Project has been LAUNCHED.

So! If you are playing along, my suggested first assignment is to read the comments section on the first post and choose whatever catches YOUR eye. Then come back here and report! (I found the “reporting” aspect Very Motivating: when I was working I kept thinking of how I’d get to TELL YOU I’d been working.)